Fresno, California, 1995

Opie Winston was from Charming, and if there was anything that Frankie Morrow knew from her extensive 13 years of life, it was that Charming life and Fresno life were never meant to bleed into one another. So, unseen at the top of the staircase, she looked on with suspicion when she realized that seventeen-year-old Opie Winston was standing in their kitchen, talking to her father.

"So you wanna prospect for South, Ope?" Clay asked skeptically. "I think you understand why I got a few... suspicions, you bein' Jax's best friend and all."

"Things aren't great with me and my ol' man," he said gruffly, nodding his thanks as Gemma came over and handed him a steaming mug of coffee. Clay, however, seemed unsatisfied with the response.

"You're seventeen, Ope, things ain't supposed to be great with you and your parents until you're old enough to start becomin' 'em -"

"Ain't just that," he shrugged. "I been practically on my own for years - dad's been too drunk to function, ain't been no good to anybody anyway. You know that. JT knows that."

"Piney deals with his shit the best way he knows how," Clay nodded, at least compelled enough to let the young man keep talking. "You grew up quick enough to compensate."

"You try tellin' JT that," Opie chuckled bitterly, drumming his fingers on the table. "I told 'im I was old enough to prospect. I turn eighteen in less than a year but I don't wanna shit around that long. I wanna start prospectin' now, get my year out, earn my way in. I thought maybe -"

"You thought maybe I could make that happen for you," Clay nodded in understanding, now finally cognizent of the reason Opie had shown up at his doorstep first thing in the morning. "Because we here down South have a reputation of playin' fast and loose with the rules, am I right?"

Frankie, who was leaning over as much as she could without risking being seen, suddenly found her footing on the edge of the carpeted top stair slipping, and with a yelp, the leg flew out from underneath her, sending her bouncing down a couple steps with a considerable racket so that she effectively drew the attention of the occupants of the kitchen. She stared with a flat, embarrassed expression between the small pillars of the staircase rail.

"You okay, Frankie?" Ope asked, his voice casual but genuinely concerned.

"I just dribbled my ass down the stairs like a basketball, so yeah. Just fine," she deadpanned. In the five years since she left Charming, Frankie had cultivated a level of reservation and snark within herself to cope with the fact that this simply wasn't where she wanted to be. Frankie Rose hated Fresno - and the idea that Opie wanted to be here was, in her mind, perplexing. "I was just - it's seven-thirty," she said, getting to her feet and tromping heavy-footed down the stairs in her Timberland boots. "Are you bringin' me to school today, Mom?"

"Course I am, sweetheart," Gemma said, walking over and placing a kiss in her only daughter's curly blonde hair that was tied into a messy ponytail behind her head. "Just got a little caught up since we have company and all. You sure you're gonna wear that to school today?"

Frankie looked down at her clothes - a red plaid shirt, black jeans that had almost surely come from the boy's section. She knew Gemma wished she would start being a more appropriately girly little girl. Maybe, Frankie realized, that was why she refused to. "I'm sure," she replied flatly. "I'm gonna go wait out by the car, then."

Scooping up her backpack from the base of the stairs and hurrying towards the door, she gave no one a chance to get a word in before she had disppeared, letting the door shut behind her.

"Sorry about that, Ope," Gemma said with a sigh, shaking her head and putting her hands on her hips. "You know how thirteen is. All the hormones and none of the coping skills. She's probably glad to see you. Jax doesn't come around very often..."

Gemma's voice trailed off. It pained her, no doubt, that about six or seven years ago, she had three children who loved each other. Jax and Frankie had always been fiercely protective, of each other and of Thomas. There had been a short while that Gemma had even needed to ban Frankie from playing dodgeball because anytime Frankie Rose got off the school bus in Charming wit so much as a skinned knee or a bump from an errant playground ball, Jax hardly saw the need to differentiate between a playmate and a bully.

Now, Gemma had two children who couldn't even be in the same room as each other without scowling. Jax came to spend the weekend with Gemma in Fresno once a month, and she had hoped that for at least once a month, she would have the same happy dinner table that she'd once had in Charming, with kids that talked incessantly about their day and made jokes. But instead, she sat at the dinner table with two teenagers, one wallowing in a sense of betrayal and the other convinced that she didn't need any of them anyway.

"'S fine," Opie shrugged dismissively. "She's had a rough go of things."

"She does great on paper," Clay said with a forced, lopsided grin as he shook his head. "Does great in school. Plays soccer. No boyfriends hangin' around 'er. She's perfect," he chuckled. Opie respected Clay, sure, but it still came as a surprise to see the genuine fondness in the older man's voice when he talked about his daughter. "Maybe it'd do her some good to have somebody around from where she grew up. Tell you what, Ope," Clay added, raising his eyebrows and leaning closer to him. "You keep an eye on my princess, try and cheer her up a little. If that ain't a problem then I got a dorm room in the clubhouse with your name on it."

"That's probably a good idea. See if givin' her someone else on her team doesn't warm her up," Gemma mused, nodding and walking over to the row of ornate hooks by the front door where the car keys were hanging, plucking the keys to the Cadillac SUV and tossing them in Opie's direction. He caught them and twirled them around his index finger, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "Give Frankie a ride to school. She'll give you directions."

Directions, it turned out, were about all the Opie could get out of Frankie Rose Morrow as they made their way to her middle school. He pulled into the parking lot and stopped, glancing at her in the passenger's seat.

"Mom tell you to babysit me?" she asked knowingly, well aware that he had stopped rather than bring her straight to the drop off area because he was trying to make conversation. "Because she and dad think I'm just sad and need a new best buddy?"

"What, I can't just want to catch up with an old friend?" he chuckled, smoothing his hand over his head and pulling off his beanie. Frankie cracked a grudging smile for a brief moment.

"You're almost eighteen. It's pretty creepy," she retorted. There was a lilt to her voice, however, that indicated that she was at least partially kidding. "You should have a talk with my mom. Big scary teenager driving me around in an SUV? Tinted windows? Rims? Someone's gonna call the cops and report a kidnapping."

Opie gave an honest laugh - for a thirteen-year-old, she was pretty sharp. She understood people pretty well - she just didn't connect with them. Frankie Rose had grown into a personality, but also a ton of angst that she was, as far as Opie as concerned, justly entitled to.

"You could lie. Tell everyone I'm your big brother -"

"Everyone knows that Jax is my brother and you're nowhere blond enough or pretty enough," Frankie snapped back sourly, her expression darkening at the mention of her older brother. "No offense. I mean, I'm sure somewhere under that baby muskrat you're raising on your face, you're pretty too."

"Height of Charming fashion, thank you very much," Opie smirked, reaching up and rubbing the beard he was starting to grow on his face. "Maybe when you hit puberty, you'll appreciate good facial hair when you see it -"

"Whoa, whoa, easy," Frankie chuckled, reaching down for her schoolbag and looking up with Cheshire Cat smirk. "You're gettin' a little defensive there, Ope. Are you insecure because a little thirteen year old made fun of your beard?"

"Get your ass to class, shrimp," he chuckled, reaching over and opening the door for it. Frankie hopped out and pulled her backpack onto her shoulders, adjusting the straps before looking back into the car.

"You pickin' me up this afternoon too?" she asked.

"Count on it."

There was a flicker of something strange in Frankie's expression that Opie picked up on after his response - count on it. Frankie Rose didn't like counting on things because counting on people meant getting let down. She shot him another lopsided smile - this time forced rather than genuine - before running off to class.

A/N's

Wow, guys! The response I've gotten from all of you so far has been great, and I'm glad that this story idea is something you guys are able to get onboard with. I'm still working through where I want this to go, which is definitely really new for me because I'm very big on planning. But all of your reviews and follows/favorites for just the first chapter have been a huge source of motivation and encouragement.

The chapters will hopefully get longer once I've found my groove here, but in the meantime, I hope you guys enjoy!

There are probably going to be two more chapters set in 1995, and another timeframe before we get to present day/canon (so as you can see, the future of this story isn't totally unplanned). Hope you all stick around and enjoy! Until next time, cheers!